


Canopy Bed

by IchyToaster



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Naked Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IchyToaster/pseuds/IchyToaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not that much different, you know...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Canopy Bed

**Author's Note:**

> It was going to be smut but I didn't feel like it. Maybe next time. Enjoy.
> 
> Song used: "Late Night in Kuai- Childish Gambino" (very chill song. Love his work)

 

 

Crystal blue eyes gaze over the scene behind sunglasses, body warm from the setting sun over the horizon. It’s surreal in a way, the kind that’s only found in those bullshit tumblr edits, the one that seem too vivid that it would never be real. But it is, oddly, in a hazy dream like way.

 

He didn’t know how long he had been laying there in his own thoughts, but Sebastian remembers his feet in the sand from noon, the two comfortable chairs resting on the deck outside the beachhouse Moriarty had chosen. He never does anything like this, mostly because jobs are rarely in these pretty surreal tourist places. 

 

_ "Dear Jim please fix it for me…" _

 

It was done though, but Jim, oddly enough was tired. The machine had been turned off and was covered under a white sheet, literally. Moriarty was resting in the bed inside, silent as usual. Sebastian hadn’t bothered him since they arrived, keeping company in a Corona. 

 

There was something oddly human when watching Jim sleep. His doe eyes closed,dark eyelashes hiding those beautifully curious eyes. His chest would rise and fall slowly, his body looking so warm though from his long piano fingertips to his curved pale feet, he was like ice. Sebastian would have Jim curled in his arms on the rare occasion, his breath oddly soft and warm against the soldier’s neck, and his heart beating slow and rhythmically. Only then Moriarty was human. It was something he rarely did. Ever. Sebastian never told him to sleep-- then again, he never told him to do anything. 

 

“You didn’t bother to wake me…” The Irish lilt purrs from the doorway. 

 

A smile tugs on the left corner of Sebastian’s lips. 

 

“Afternoon.” He turns his head from the breathtaking scene to Moriarty, who’s leaning on the door frame lazily. His dark hair is mussed, some shaping the way his head was resting on the pillow, and his eyes gaze fondly over at Sebastian, something the blond didn’t see until eight months after meeting him. He walks over barefoot in a white t-shirt and boxers.

 

_ Human. _

 

Jim’s cold fingers touch Sebastian’s scarred cheek, Seb almost flinches at the contrast from the heat around the two of them. The man was only 5’3 compared to his counterpart at 6’5, but now he loomed over Seb, his dark doe eyes blinking slowly as if he was in a dream. He usually kisses like an animal, teeth barred and breaking Sebastian in a matter of seconds, but he’s gentle this time, lips slowly moving against the other’s.

 

Human.

 

Sebastian gazes up at Moriarty, silent. He tries to hide his surprise behind a poker face he had been working on for years--

 

“Don’t start.” Jim sighs softly, picking up the cigaret pack and lighter from the table next to the half empty Corona. 

 

Sebastian laughs softly to himself, looking back at the ocean as it moves closer before drawing away again, slowly, as if beckoning for the watcher to join,only to drown.

 

_ Human. _

 

Smoke is seen from Sebastian’s pervial vision and he watched Jim as he slides into the chair next to him, t-shirt sticking to him with sweat and blood. The silence is comforting, the waves melody a calming agent in their usually weird silence. Seb’s calloused hands reach for the bottle again, taking a slow sip and admiring to himself. 

 

“I wanted you to join me, you know.” Jim murmurs softly, and Seb looks towards the speaker. His perfect posture gone, his dead weight eyes vanishing as he spoke. “It’s a shame… dogs usually go on their instinct.” 

The casual sentence is dropped like a mic, and Jim takes a draw from his cigaret. 

 

Sebastian doesn’t speak, swallowing slowly and sipping the Corona again, the drink becoming a comfortable barrier between the two of them. 

 

“Jim-”

 

“If you’re about to apologize for the love of god, don’t.” Jim groans, wincing at the thought. Sebastian gets silent again, finishing off his beer and resting back in the seat, feet burying into the sand. 

 

Jim stays until he’s finished with his cigaret, probably to go shower; Seb couldn’t tell, letting the ocean’s incessant beckoning lull him to sleep.

 

=./=./=./=

The ocean wakes him, waves crashing and the wind picking up slightly. The sun has set, and the warmth is gone. Sebastian takes his sunglasses off, praying that a god awful tan hasn’t appeared on his face. He turns his head towards the open door, the white curtains dancing with the wind’s song. Seb gets up, limbs getting used to the feeling of movement again after five steps in the sand before walking up the wooden steps into the beachouse.

 

Every light is off, except for the flickering candle on the bedside table. The flame turned restlessly in the glass, flickering and illuminating the sleeping figure in the canopy bed. It rises and falls, slow and without any haste. Seb couldn’t help but smile a bit, pulling his t-shirt off and walking into the bathroom. He cleans up quick and lazily, already feeling the weight of sleep on his shoulders again. Stumbling into the bedroom again, Seb closes the door to the beach, lighting the candle on his side of the bed. It was so unconventional of them to do this… thing. ‘Real Life’ Some kind of normality to the days on the coast. Sebastian felt an awkwardness in it, unable to relax in the quote ‘most relaxing place on earth’. 

 

He tossed the covers over and slid into the bed, to the other’s distaste. 

 

“Not even a greeting.” The pile of sheets muttered, shifting to face their waker. 

 

Sebastian didn’t make a move to turn, the lull of the ocean pulling him back as did Jim’s cold fingers.

 

“Jesus, Jim.” Seb groaned, used to the ice that was Moriarty’s touch. The smaller man laughed softly, fingers running over scarred shoulders as Sebastian turned, blue eyes gazing over him.

 

Doe eyes wide with interest, blinking slowly under heavy lashed eyelids. A small smile tugged at his lips in a sleepy way. Still Moriarty. His fingers ran over Seb’s scars, ice cold fingertips pressing into the deep healed cuts. Sebastian never bothered to move away, just watching Jim’s eyes. He always looked so deep in thought when looking at his scars. He had done it over and over, but always mesmerized, always curious. Always Moriarty. 

 

Hands ran over Sebastian’s shoulder blades, pulling him closer, and Sebastian’s hands found their way around Jim’s nimble bare waist, hands running up his sides as he pulled him closer. Jim pressed to Sebastian’s chest, his warm breath against Seb’s barred neck. Jim’s naked legs wrapped around Sebastian’s, overlapping and moving in between his, ice cold feet making his holder flinch slightly. His heart was beating slowly inside it’s cage, a slow rhythm Sebastian cherished like oxygen. Such an unaccounted thing he rarely was able to appreciate. 

 

Sebastian's left hand curled in his dark brown hair, and Jim let him, free of hair gel and still smelling of gunpowder and mint. He inhaled deep and slow, enjoy every second of Jim’s embrace, skin to skin, heart to heart, mind to mind. Jim’s naked body pressed to Sebastian’s breath long and slow, chest rising and falling against Seb’s mangled side. He was lazy and unpolished, unprofessional, uncoordinated whilst sleeping. He would dream and mutter in his sleep to the point of conversation, incessant muttering and cross brows. Sebastian would enjoy every second of the unfiltered Jim Moriarty, every inch, every word, every beat of his heart and every breath from his lips.

 

_ Human. _

 

“Go back to sleep…” Moriarty’s voice was soft and tired, his lips against Seb’s neck. He didn’t answer, not wanting to miss a second. 

Moriarty opened the door without asking for Sebastian to enter, beckoning him to come in, to be in his world, and Sebastian did. 

 

The beat of his heart and the look in his large doe eyes was enough. 

  
  


Moriarty was the ocean.

The Irish lilt, the melody.

His fingertips were coaxing the listener in, and in he would dive.

  
Swimming deeper and deeper until he could know every part of Jim’s dark cold soul. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Suggestions? Requests? itheperson.tumblr.com


End file.
